


Five times...

by Poorhuni



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poorhuni/pseuds/Poorhuni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times kissed prompt for Harley Quinn / Penguin.<br/>TW: Abuse & Blood</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times...

“See ya around… Ozzy!”  The woman trilled and suddenly she was swooping down on him and kissing his cheek. Glaring at her, admittedly shapely, backside as she pranced from his office he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, scrubbing her lipstick from his cheek. 

The Clown - who was never a joy to deal with under normal circumstances - now had some crazy broad acting cheerleader for him and thought it appropriate to bring her to a business meeting. 

She was probably a knockout under the greasepaint - but she’d spent the meeting simpering over him and Oswald did not appreciate the distraction.

-

He had not planned it - but at the same time, he could hardly believe it was based on impulse either. He did not consider himself a romantic - he didn’t make sweeping gestures… But seeing her cry like that was _hurting_ him and he had to make it stop. 

So he had pounced on her, swooped in, crushing his lips against hers, letting both his hands slide up her throat, thumbs grazing her jaw bone, fingers knitting into her hair as he tried to smother her pain with his passion. 

It was madness - she would pull away as soon as she realized what was going on. He’d see it in her eyes, the rejection, so he screwed his eyes closed - to avoid it even longer. 

He knew what made him attractive to women, and it wasn’t going to turn Harley’s head away from Joker… But he realized she wasn’t pulling back - she was curling around him like a vine.

She was still crying but it made her kiss desperate and needy and… Lacking in technique. But she wanted him back, she was kissing him back - and that was all he needed to let one hand stray to her waist, pressing her body against his. 

-

“Ozzy! Please!” Harley’s tone was shrill and desperate as she chased after him, grabbing at him. “Ozzy, please…” She begged, catching hold of his hand, clasping it in both of hers.

He didn’t glance at her, using the hand she hadn’t captured to open his gun case. “Butch, go get the car, bring it around.” His tone held barely contained rage, which sent his hench man and chauffeur from the room almost gratefully.  

“Oz, ya can’t do this, y’ just can’t!” Her pleading broke through to him, and he turned on her. She stood there, cringing and sobbing, clutching at him. That stupid costume she wore to match her lover was destroyed, almost shredded one sleeve actually completely torn off and gone, bruises peppered her face and neck like kisses, her lip was cut and bleeding, she’d have a black eye tomorrow - maybe two - her hair, usually in two neat bunches was disheveled, knotted and finally (he couldn’t glance at it without his insides boiling with rage and wanting to vomit) a ‘J’, carved into her flesh, just visible beneath the slick blood that soaked her costume and surrounding skin. All that - and she stood there - trying to protect the monster who did this to her?

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t. One.” He growled at her, turning to her fully. 

“Ozzy…” She breathed, paling beneath his scowl - Just as he assumed - she could come up with nothing. He turned back to his gun, resolute, only for throw her arms around him. 

“Please. Ozzy. He’ll _hurt_ you. He’ll **KILL** you…”

It was almost too much, his anger at the Clown was at a breaking point - and the allegation that he was no match for some freak in grease paint? That he couldn’t protect what was his? It was with every ounce of precious control he had left that he didn’t yell at Harley when he next spoke. 

 “No, Harley. I am going to kill him. I’m gonna put a bullet right between his eyes, and he ain’t ever gonna hurt you like this again.” He glanced down at her and felt bile rise in the back of his throat, burning him. His hands were shaking slightly as he fed bullets into the gun. He wouldn’t need more than one unless he decided to empty the rest into the Joker’s cock first. 

He wanted to eviscerate him… But at the same time, the temptation to get it over and done with as quickly as possible was glinting like a diamond for him. where was Butch with the Goddamn car?

“No, Ozzy, please, no.” She dissolved into sobs and gasps, clutching at his shirt, at him anywhere she could grab. “He won’t stop. He don’t care. He’ll murdah ya! He knows it’d hurt me - he doesn’t care about y’! He loves me and look at what he did!” She was collapsing before him, literally, as she crumbled within, just repeating his name and ‘please’ between each gasp of air, sinking to the ground. 

With a sigh he prevented her from going down, wrapping his eyes around her aching form to hold her up. She was gently pounding her fist against his chest, no longer incomprehensible as she wept freely.

“Fine.” He ground out eventually, but it didn’t seem to calm her, so tentatively, he raised one hand to stroke her hair, staring at a fixed point behind her. “I wont.. I won’t go after him.” At least, not right now. Someone could pick up the clown for him, take him somewhere. And then Oswald could take his time with him. 

“Oh, Ozzy!” Harley wailed throwing herself against him, kissing him feverishly, her body quivering as she held him back, littering his face with gentle pecks of gratitude.   

-

"Ozzy.” Harley ground out one syllable and then gasped out the next. 

“Shh, shh.” He soothed, cradling her head in his hand. 

“Are y’ cryin’ Oz?” 

“No, Harley.” He lied. “It’s just raining is all.”

“So it is. Always rainin’ in Gotham.” She looked past him, eyes unfocused, at the rain. 

“Hey, c’mon. Why would I be crying anyway?”

“I’m dyin’ Oz.”

“No. No. Please. No, you’re not.”

“I am Oz… I’m so cold and tired. I can’t feel my fingers.” She tried to lift her hand and failed. “Kiss me goodbye Oz.”

“N-”

“Please. While y’-” Her breath caught, hitched. “While y’still can.”  

“I’m gonna kill him. I really will this time.” 

“Ozzy…”

He wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, tenderly, but when he kissed her she still tasted of copper. He kissed her until she stopped kissing back, letting ou a quiet sigh as her eyes fluttered shut. On his knees in the filth of Gotham, he held her broken body, sobbing openly. 

-

"I am warning you Fries. If this doesn’t work.”

“There is no need from threats. It has worked. And everyone knows what you did to the Joker.”

No, not really. No one really knew. The Joker had disappeared months ago - and Oswald took full credit for his death but really…

For months, it had been the only thing keeping him alive - torturing the mad man who had stolen everything from him. Kept him sane while he burned everything he owned down for her, to keep it a secret.

And this morning, when the Clown had told him - as he told him, over and over, even when Oswald came close to pummeling his face into mince meat with his own bare fists - that nothing could bring her back, she was dead and now she could never be his - Oswald finally replied. 

Harley was alive, frozen by Victor Fries and her body - given time to mend, aided along by the best doctors money could buy (and those that it couldn’t) with her unable to feel the pain - was finally healed and she was ready to be awoken.

Before the Joker had been able to reply, although his body had given a satisfactory jerk - and the look on his face, the second that he believed it - he was dead. Oswald had held onto that chip until the moment of death. It would have sustained the Joker, the same way it sustained him, and had the Clown known, he would have gotten free and killed her again.

And this was the moment of fruition for all his sacrifice, all he had lost to get her back - it would be all worth it to hear her say his name again. 

“Still, Fries. If this hasn’t worked, consider me… Displeased.” It was almost soothing the Victor didn’t falter under his gaze - but that might be because Victor didn’t know that he had Nora, should this not work… A little security one might say. 

“She’s waking up.” 

Oswald tore his gaze away, watching Harley silently, waiting, praying, hoping. 

Her eyes fluttered open, landing first on Victor, and then on him. He’d forgotten almost how beautiful they were, breath takingly so.

She opened her mouth, and he was by her side. “Shh, shh, Harley girl. Don’t try to talk. You’ve been, resting, for some time now. We need to take it slow.” He bent over her, stroking her hair from her face, watching as she carefully lifted her arm, coiling her fingers around his lapel, pulling him down (well, in all honestly, barely tugging him, he leaned closer…) into a kiss. 

“Fuck takin’ anything slow, Ozzy.” She croaked out, eyes blazing as she met gaze. 


End file.
